The grizzly-bearded Captain laughed lightly with them, and then asked Lorry if he would object to giving him the full story of his acquaintanceship with the alleged Graustarkians.  The bewildered and disheartened American promptly told all he knew about them, omitting certain tender details, of course.  As he proceeded the Chief grew more and more interested, and, when at last Lorry came to the description of the strange trio, he gave a sudden start, exposed a queer little smile for a second or so, and then was as sphynxlike as before.  The ever-vigilant Anguish observed the involuntary start and smile, quick as the Chief had been to recover himself, and felt a thrill of triumph.  To his anger and impatience, however, the old officer calmly shook his head at the end of the narrative, and announced that he was as much in the dark as ever.

“Well, we’ll search awhile for ourselves,” declared Anguish, stubbornly, not at all satisfied.

“You will be wasting your time,” said the Chief, meaningly.

“We’ve plenty to waste,” retorted the other.

After a few moments they departed, Baron Dangloss accompanying them to the gate and assuring them that he and his men always would be at their command.  His nation admired the American people, he warmly declared.

“That old codger knows our people, and I’ll bet a thousand on it,” said Harry, angrily, when they had gone some little distance down the street.  Then he told of the queer exposure Dangloss had unwittingly made.  Lorry, more excited than he cared to show, agreed that there was something very suspicious about this new discovery.

They walked about the quaint town for an hour or two, examining the buildings, the people and the soldiery with deep interest.  From the head of the main street,—­Castle Avenue,—­they could plainly see the royal palace, nearly a mile away.  Its towers and turrets, gray and gaunt, ran up among the green tree-tops and were outlined plainly against the yellow hills.  Countless houses studded the steep mountain slope, and many people were discerned walking and riding along the narrow, ledge-like streets which wound toward the summit, far up in the clouds.  Clearly and distinctly could be seen the grim monastery, perched at the very pinnacle of the mountain, several miles away.  Up there it looked bleak and cold and uninviting, in great contrast to the loveliness and warmth of the valley.  Down below the grass was moist and soft, trees were approaching the stage where yellow and red tints mingle with the rich green, flowers were blooming, the land was redolent of the sweet fragrance of autumn, the atmosphere warm, clear and invigorating.  It was paradise surmounted by desolation, drear and deadening.